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Low Dust Clouds Bristled
Low dust clouds bristled
In the sky but I did not see;
A lone grackle whistled
A warning I did not perceive.
The world would not cease turning
In its cruel mockery.
I sat upon a rock, faltering –
Because of things that wouldn’t be.
Only distraction can persuade –
Only sleep can steal
Such sadness that pervades
And hot tears that swell
But hotter yet came a wind
That brushed my fingers
As would one consoling
And dried my tears.
Copyright ©
Amy Michelle Mosier
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